Strong On My Own
by Gwendolyn James
Summary: Sometimes I can barely remember his face. I don't want to forget. Please, don't let me forget. One-shot.


Disclaimer: Mine? Yeah, right.

A/N: I was in desperate need of some good R/Hr fluff, but unfortunately, this little plot bunny hopped the fastest. ;) I'm actually quite fond of it now. As always, dedicated to my fellow stalkers, without whom I would be quite lonely and pathetic.

* * *

Some days I still can't believe he's gone. I can't believe that he's not here by my side.

He was my rock. The one I turned to when everything was falling down around me. How can I possibly keep moving, keep changing, when all I want is to be in his arms again?

I don't want things to change. I want my life to be the same as it was. I want him back. I want him here with me. Is that really so selfish?

Everyone tells me to move on. That it's been four years. That I really should try to live life without him.

Well, I _have_ lived life without him, and it's _hell_. Unfortunately, I can't change it. He's not coming back, no matter how much I want him to, no matter how many nights I dream that he _has_ returned.

He's gone, and I have to move on.

I'm terrified. Completely and utterly terrified. They say that it gets easier with time, but I'm not sure I believe it. Not yet. Maybe someday.

He is – _was_ – my best friend. My husband. My other half.

I know. It sounds cliché. But it's true. I always laughed at the thought that a man would complete me. I was perfectly fine on my own. I was an intelligent, capable woman – I didn't _need_ him, even though I _loved_ him.

But when he asked me to marry him, I knew I would never be the same again. I would never be able to live without him. But now I have to, and it just isn't fair.

We had so many dreams. A home, children, careers – _a life._ A life together that would last until we were old and gray. How were we to know that our dream would be whittled down to a mere six months? We were young, we were in love – and young love has no boundaries. Nothing can crush its optimism, its hope.

Nothing except death.

I wanted too much, was that it? Is this a punishment for my selfishness? Is this something that I asked for unknowingly?

We just wanted to be happy. _I_ just want to be happy.

Move on, they say. Do I have to?

Sometimes I can barely remember his face. I don't want to forget. Please, don't let me forget.

I can do this. I know I can.

I was never one to drown in self-pity. I was strong once, I can be strong again. I _will_ be strong again. I need him, but he's not here. I have to do this on my own. I have to move on.

I make myself go through the motions. I drag myself out of bed every morning, I go to work, I come home, and it starts all over again. It seems so simple, but in truth, it's complete agony.

Baby steps. One at a time.

I take his picture down from its place on the mantel and crawl into bed. With his precious face on the pillow next to me, I can almost pretend he's here again.

Almost.

I close my eyes against the tears, but they stream down my cheeks without permission. How can I keep doing this? It's hard. It's just too hard.

I'm stronger than this. I _know_ I am. Some days I think I'm making progress, but one look at his picture and I fall back down again. I wish he was here to pick me up.

I have to do this on my own. I have to ignore the gaping hole in my heart and be the warrior that I know I am. I'll show them. I'll show myself. He's not here, but _I am_. I'm here, and I'm alive. He wouldn't want me to hide. He wouldn't want me to grieve.

He's not here, but he might as well be. His soul, his heart – he's inside me. He was the one who taught me to be strong. You might not believe me, but I swear it's the truth. I was strong before I met him, but he taught me a new kind of strength.

The strength of friendship. The strength of loyalty. The strength of family. The strength of love. And I love him too much to let him down. I know what he would want, and I'm going to fight for it.I _will_ be happy. I _will._ I know I'll never find a love like his ever again, but _I will be happy_. For him. For us.

Sometimes I can barely remember his face, but then I look at her – my beautiful little girl – and I see him smiling at me through her eyes.

She's the reason I'm still here. She's the miracle in the midst of my life's destruction.

She's _him_, down to the last little red eyelash.

He would have loved her.

I'm doing this for her. For us. I don't want her to have a mother who lives in a world of darkness. I want her to live a life of imagination, joy, and wonder. I want her to be able to look at his picture and smile. I want her to be able to say his name and not worry about how I'll react.

I'll always love him. He's the part of me that's invisible, but never really gone.

He's in her eyes, her smile, her heart.

He's in _my_ heart.

I won't forget.

Please, don't let me forget.

FIN


End file.
